


If Only There Was Time

by johnlockedaccount



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockedaccount/pseuds/johnlockedaccount
Summary: Six years after Mary died. Sherlock is on drugs again and John can't take care of Rosie anymore so he goes to Sherlock for help.





	If Only There Was Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic I hope you enjoy!  
> UPDATE: sorry for the word count XD

It was a rainy and cold morning at Baker Street. A tall lean, body stood looking out onto the street as the occasional car passed. His breathing began to grow uneven as one cab stopped outside the flat. A short man with a bit of chafer and a head of blonde hair stepped out. An unfamiliar face peered up. His eyes were tired and swollen, his skin wrinkled and stained with alcohol.

Sherlock froze. He had not seen this face in years. ‘I'm not even presentable’ he thought while rubbing his hand over a scruffy face. If only he had time, because with more time he could do more things like shave, shower, change attire, clean up, make tea….even save Mary. ‘How could a loss of time do this to me?’

An unexpected foot step pattern climbed the stairs; Two thumps and a louder thud. Sherlock picked up his violin. He knew the man who climbed the stairs but he was a changed man. Sherlock played an intimate tune. The footsteps hesitated for a moment. At the top of the stairs stood John Watson. The music ended and sherlock turned around with every ounce of bravery he contained.

"Erhm...hello”. He croaked out.

John gave a quick forced smile and awkwardly looked around the flat then down at the ground. 'This was a bad idea. Going to Sherlock Holmes for help? What am I thinking?'

Sherlock strode across the flat, but not with as much elegance as before.

“Tea? Haven't....seen you in a-a while. Didn’t know you were coming back.” 

He fumbled around for clean mugs.

“Uhhh yeah…. Time got away.”

John shuffled towards the kitchen.

“But to be fair I did try texting you.” 

John did that adorable side mouth thing sherlock loved.

Sherlock turned after finish the tea, smiling. 

“You know I don't read texts beginning with ‘hey’”.

“Well maybe you should.” 

John fisted his hands tightly.

There was an angry tone to John’s voice. He went from neutral to angry so suddenly. Why was he being unpredictable. Sherlock chose his next words carefully. 

“I read it but thought you would change your mind. I was looking out the window all morning not knowing why. I’m slipping”

John sighed and walked into the living room. Sherlock followed with tea and handed a cup to John. After taking a sip John looked around the flat.  
Books and papers scattered about along with dirty plates. 

Sherlock noticed John glancing about. 

"How is she?" he cleared his throat "Rosie?”

John looks up and, for the first time in six years, observes sherlock’s scruffy face. “I don't know.”

sherlock gave a puzzled look. 

"how would you not…oh” sherlock paused filling in the blanks. ”Sorry.”

John sat his tea down and looked at the ceiling trying not to tear up. His fists clenched so hard blood began to pour from previous scabs. 

”You know what, it's fine. No one cares about me and that’s…” he breathed in a shaky breath. "Fine.” his voice cracked.

”John please don't say that. I care about you.” sherlock persuaded.

“And what help is that to me? My wife is dead, my daughter was taken away, and I have no money. How is having a junkie like you care about me going to help?” John shouted, his voice cracking multiple times obviously from yelling and crying so much before.

“At least I never let my feelings get the best of me like you!” Sherlock shouted out of impulse. ”If I had a major loss I would never just abandon my only friend for years, come back, and tell him he's a junkie! At least I care!” 

At this point both of them were standing up and screeching at each other. John seized the moment and socked Sherlock in the face as hard as he could. 

Sherlock stumbled back and tripped over the coffee table onto the floor with a thud. When he finally gathered his thoughts again John was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 is in the making!


End file.
